


Mourning

by Bird (everyoneblooms)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Death, Comfort, Deacon POV, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Spoilers, but her child?, but like not an actual child, honestly mostly just comfort, ya know?, yeah idk how to tag things so I guess that’s it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28376394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyoneblooms/pseuds/Bird
Summary: “Ah Christ, Bullseye.” The weaker part of him is screaming for him to run, but she deserves better than that. She took out the institute today. Her son died today. He wraps a tentative arm around her shoulders, and to his surprise she leans into him.
Relationships: Deacon & Female Sole Survivor, Deacon - Relationship, Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Mourning

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy. This is just a lil thing about my OC sole survivor and Deacon. I’ve dreamt up a million scenarios about them inside my head but this is the only one I’ve written down.  
> Anyways.... content warning for mentions of death and canon typical violence/gore. And I suppose spoilers for fallout 4 if you somehow don’t know how the game ends.... So yeah! Enjoy.

The party in HQ is still in full swing when Deacon slips out. He’s had just enough liquor to make his movements a little less smooth, but not enough that his critical thinking is impaired. Most of the others are varying levels of trashed, singing, and some even dancing. Drummer Boy was red faced and singing a terrible rendition of Uranium Rock, which was difficult for Deacon to walk away from. He seems to be the only one who noticed that Bullseye dipped out of the party early on. Or, if anyone else did notice they showed no sign of it. Usually Deacon would take her silent departure as a cue to leave her alone, but it doesn’t feel right for her to be all alone after the big day she had today.

He finds her upstairs, sitting on a pew with her head in her hands. She doesn’t look up as he crosses the creaky floorboards and sits down next to her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Deacon says, his voice soft like he’s approaching a frightened dog. 

Bullseye lifts her head up but she doesn’t look at him. Deacon sneaks a sideways glance at her from under his sunglasses. She’s not crying. Good. He’s never been good at that sort of thing.

“Big day, huh?” He asks after a long moment of silence.

“Yeah,” she mumbles. Her voice is rough, like she hasn’t used it in years.

“Cigarette?” He offers her the pack from the chest pocket of his flannel. She nods and takes one from him silently. He hands her the lighter, but her hands are so shaky she just knocks the cigarette from between her lips.

“Here,” he murmurs, reaching out to take the lighter back from her. He leans in a little to light the cigarette as she holds it back up to her mouth. The flame basks her face in an orange glow for just a moment. There are deep, purple shadows under her eyes and her cheekbones look more sunken than normal. The last few weeks have been hard on her.

“You should be celebrating,” she tells him after a few minutes of silence.

Deacon crosses his ankles and leans back in the pew, tipping his head back and blowing the smoke up into the space above his head. “So should you,” he replies. “You worked hard for this.”

Not the right thing to say, if her shaky inhale is anything to go by. Dammit. He risks a glance at her and notices with horror that her eyes are wet, with the risk of the tears spilling over. 

“Ah Christ, Bullseye.” The weaker part of him is screaming for him to run, but she deserves better than that. She took out the institute today. Her son died today. He wraps a tentative arm around her shoulders, and to his surprise she leans into him.

“I must seem so stupid,” she says. “I’m crying over a boy I never even knew. I should be down there celebrating with you guys.”

“It’s not stupid.” Deacon thinks briefly about Barbara. He remembers the crushing grief of knowing he’d never see her again and the overwhelming guilt of letting something happen to her.

“I killed him,” she says. “I pushed that button and took his life.”

“We shouldn’t have made you be the one,” Deacon says, squeezing her shoulder a little. He hadn’t thought it at the time, but now he realizes what a terrible idea it was to put that on her. 

“It wouldn’t have made a difference.” Her voice is surprisingly steady, but then a harsh, rattling breath gives her away. “It needed to happen, though. He was collateral damage in a bigger picture.”

Deacon doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing he can say that will make this easier. Deacon has never been a hugger as long as he’s lived, but he pulls Bullseye fully into his body anyways and wraps his other arm around her.

She breaks down completely. Her body is shaking with each breath she takes and her tears quickly start to seep through the front of his shirt. He brings one hand up to stroke her hair. The hug comes surprisingly easily to Deacon. He can’t remember the last time he held someone like this, usually his go to would be to make some kind of joke to lighten the mood. But this feels nice. It feels natural. 

They sit like that for a long time. Eventually Bullseye’s sobs die. She straightens from him and offers him a sad, sheepish smile. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay, pal. Just don’t tell anyone I let you hug me, I have a reputation to uphold.” He’s kidding, but also he really dopes hope she doesn’t mention it to anyone. If Glory finds out he’ll never hear the end of it.

“Hey, I’ve got a reputation to uphold too.” She smiles at him and it’s less forced this time. There’s still a somber edge to her voice, but she seems much more herself for the moment. “Plus, Dez might give us the fraternization talk.”

Deacon feels his ears get hot, but he feigns innocence and just lifts his brows at her. He’s thankful for her glasses hiding his genuine surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says in a haughty voice.

She chuckles. “Come on, old man. Let’s get back to the party.”

She starts to stand but Deacon grabs her wrist, pulling her back down beside him. She turns to him with a raised eyebrow and has just opened her mouth to speak when he’s on her. Her lips are chapped and her face is wet but Deacon doesn’t care. He’s never kissed her like this before. They’ve always been in some kind of role before or playing some game with each other. This is none of that. This kiss is sweet, chaste, and filled with longing of an entirely different kind. 

Deacon pulls away a little bit. Bullseye reaches up and pushes his sunglasses up his head. She brings one hand up to cup the back of his neck. He hasn’t shaved in awhile, his head is covered in ginger bristles and he’s almost sporting a full on beard. There just hasn’t been time for that kind of thing between the institute, the brotherhood, and the worry.

“Deacon,” she murmurs, her eyes boring into his. He doesn’t respond, too busy thinking about how long he’s wanted this and how good it feels. “I love you.”

There’s definitely no hiding the shock on his face, but he hopes the fear doesn’t show through. He wants to say it back. It would be the truth. But he thinks about Barbara, of coming home and finding her on the kitchen floor with her head caved in and wires sticking out the side. She was wearing her favorite dress, the pale yellow one, and there was blood on the front.

“You’re one of a kind, Bullseye.” It’s the closest he can get to admitting vulnerability. He’s worried it won’t be enough, but the soft smile she gives him tells him it is. That she understands that he’s trying. 

“Let’s get back to the party,” she tells him, standing up for real this time. She grabs his hand and Deacon lets her hold it all the way back through the catacombs. And when she drops it right outside the door to HQ he feels surprisingly disappointed.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk sometimes I think I’d like to write more about these two but that requires effort.


End file.
